


Conker the Squirrel Meets Untitled Goose From Untitled Goose Game

by GlitterNyappyGacktRose



Series: Conker the Squirrel Crashing Other People's Games [1]
Category: Conker's Bad Fur Day, Untitled Goose Game (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Nintendo - Freeform, Rare (Game company), Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterNyappyGacktRose/pseuds/GlitterNyappyGacktRose
Summary: What would happen if the goose from Untitled Goose Day appeared in Conker's Bad Fur Day? Conker's Bad Fur Day is about to get a lot worse... or is it?
Series: Conker the Squirrel Crashing Other People's Games [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567105
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

_Well, here I am! Conker the King… King of all the land. Who’d a thought about that? But how did I come to this, you say? And who is that strange goosey-fellow at the foot of my throne? That you also say! Come closer and I’ll tell you. It all started… yesterday. And what a day that was! It’s what I call… a bad fur day!_

*

“Hi Berri, it’s me, Conker,” said Conker the Squirrel drunkenly, leaning against the payphone in the bar. I’m gonna be a bit late. The guys here are off to fight some war somewhere. So anyway… See you! Love you! …I think she bought it.”

“Put the phone down, Conker,” laughed Banjo merrily from the table.

“Oh, right. Whose round is it?”

“Yours!”

“What, again? Okay… can somebody lend me a fiver?”

Conker reluctantly got the next round. He re-joined his mates at the table, ready to continue his drunken adventures.

“To us!” hiccupped Conker, raising his empty hand in the air. Only the sound of glass breaking brought him to his senses. He looked down to find his beer a shattered mess of glass and foam on the floor. And beside the mess was…

_Honk_.

“Well fuck me,” said Conker. “That goose just dropped my beer! …Ah well. Can’t be helped. Go get me another one then, old goosey-chap!”

“Um… Conker, that’s a goose,” pointed out Banjo. “I don’t think it understands-"

“I’m a squirrel. You’re a bear. And yet we’re having this conversation. So I don’t see why the goose- hey, where are you going?”

While Conker had been having his rather logical argument with his old chum, Banjo, the goose had made its way across the bar and out the door.

“Hey, what about my beer- oopsie.”

Unbeknown to Conker, his shoelaces had been untied by the goose. With a loud bang, Conker toppled forward into the table, causing beer and peanuts to fly everywhere. All around him, the table grumbled and protested.

“Oh, sorry about that. Hey Goosey, come back!”

Conker drunkenly chased after the goose, knocking into people as he stumbled outside. He wandered out into the rain, hot on the goose’s heels.

“Oi, I think you owe me a beer!” shouted Conker, slurring his words. The goose stopped in its tracks and turned to stare at Conker.

_Honk._

“Honk you too, motherfucker. Now, where’s my beer?”

That was enough to anger the goose. With a hiss, it ferociously flapped its wings before striking and biting Conker on the nose. Conker fell on his behind.

“Hey, I don’t think that’s very nice!” said Conker, his voice muffled from pinching his nose. “Now, where’s my beer?”

With his reaction time quite slow from being drunk, Conker had failed to realise that the goose had already left. He tried to leap to his feet, but the sudden movement caused him to vomit at the feet of an angry-looking monk.

“Ah, sorry about that old chap. Anyway, gotta go!”

And so, Conker wandered off into the night. Eventually he came to a sign which he couldn’t quite make out. He thought he was going home. But his adventure was just beginning.

*

_And so that’s how it all began! Great story, wasn’t it? I still haven’t gotten my beer though. Would any of you readers like to buy me a beer? That’d be greaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-_

_“Conker, take your finger off the “a” key!”_

_Oh, sorry about that. Anyway, see you in chapter 2!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, here we are, Chapter 2. Told you I’d be here, didn’t I? I’m here, even though I’m hungover. But things just seem to be working in my favour today. In fact, I barely had to lift a finger! Isn’t it just swell when that happens? Surely I can’t be missing out on anything… can I?_

*

When Conker came to, he was lying in a field. His head pounding, he sluggishly continued his journey. Before long, he was greeted by the sound of excited buzzing. Eventually he spotted a delighted-looking queen bee.

“Oh, a squirrel!” exclaimed the bee. “I would have asked you to help get my hive back from those nasty wasps, but this goose here has already done it for me! It gobbled up every last one of those horrid creatures!”

“Huh, I didn’t know geese ate wasps,” said Conker, looking down at the goose. The goose just honked in response.

Well, wasn’t this swell? With his bad hangover, stealing back a hive from some asshole wasps sounded like quite the chore. But since the goose had already done it, he didn’t have to worry. With a smile, he continued on his way.

Eventually, Conker found himself inside a barn. But something seemed a little off. It took him a second to realise that it seemed as though everything had been sorted. There was nothing left for him to do here.

“Wow, I guess it really is my lucky day,” he said with a smile as he left the barn. However, the smile was quickly wiped from his face when he spotted the goose waiting outside, cash dangling from its bill.

“Hey, where did you get that money?” asked Conker curiously, to which the goose flapped its wings. “The bee? Hey, that’s not fair, give me some!”

Conker went to swipe the cash from the goose’s beak, but instead ended up on the ground once again. The goose hissed angrily at him. He slowly stood up, rubbing his behind.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” sighed Conker. “It’s your cash. But you owe me a beer still, ok?”

_Honk._

“Honk? Does that mean yes or no? Right, one honk means yes, two honks mean no. Will you get me a beer- hey, Mr Goosey, come back!”

But Conker was too late. The goose had already waddled into the river. Conker could swim after it, but he knew it’d be unwise to do so in his current condition. With a sign, he continued on his way, accepting that sometimes life it just shitty. Really shitty. In fact, everything thing around him was covered in literal shit.

*

_It's the end of chapter 2 and I still haven’t gotten my beer. The goose won’t buy me one, and no-one else has offered. I’d buy my own if I had the cash, but anytime I have the chance to earn some, the goose snatches it away from me! How shitty! Anyway, see you in Chapter 3. It’ll literally be the shit._


	3. Chapter 3

_I literally found myself facing the biggest amount of shit I’d ever encountered in my life. I’d never seen anything like it before. But I was ready to deal with it and… and that goose interrupted and took care of it for me. Perhaps I should be grateful. But this is Conker’s Bad Fur Day, not Goose’s Bad Feather Day…_

*

Despite the world being covered in shit, Conker continued along his merry way. In fact, the shit-covered world didn’t seem to bother him at all. Why was that? Well, perhaps it was because that it wasn’t that different to how Conker normally saw the world. After all, he did spend most of his night in the pub, drowning his sorrows.

Conker was so caught up in the tune that he was humming that he almost tripped over a piece of bright yellow sweetcorn that was hopping around in the shit.

“Oh sweet, sweetcorn!” exclaimed Conker, wrapping his arms around it.

“Brrrrring… me…some… sweetcorn!” boomed an ominous voice.

“Who’s that?” asked Conker, looking around for the source of the voice. He shrugged. “Ah well, if that’s what he wants… What’s the worst that can happen?”

Conker followed the source of the voice and chucked the corn into the biggest mound of shit he’d ever seen. And he’d seen some shit, lots of it. Just then, the shitty ground beneath his feet trembled as a giant poo monster rose up slowly from the mound. Conker just stared at it in disbelief. The shit monster cleared its throat before bursting into song.

“I am the Great Mighty Poo,

And I’m going to throw my shit at-“

_Honk_.

“Hey, it’s the goose!” beamed Conker. “Man, I’ve seen some shit. I could really do with that beer you owe me…”

“A goose? A goose? No goose has ever wandered into my chamber!” bellowed the Great Mighty Poo.

“Well, I’m sure no squirrel has either,” began Conker sulkily. But the Great Mighty Poo was not listening. Once again, it cleared its throat before continuing its song.

“I am the Great Mighty Goose,

And I’m going to steal your chocolate mousse.

A tiny little squirrel

Is in mortal peril.

No matter what you do you’re going to loose.”

“Um… wouldn’t it be lose, not loose?” pointed out Conker, sounding quite dejected. How come he wasn’t getting a song and being called “the Great Mighty Squirrel”?

“Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you… loser!” retorted the Great Mighty Poo angrily. “You’ve really done it now! I was in the middle of my song, and you had to interrupt and ruin it! Let’s see, where was I…? Right… _Now I’m really getting rather-“_

_Honk_.

Conker didn’t get a chance to hear how the Great Mighty Poo was doing, since his song was cut off by a honk and a flush. Conker spun around to discover that the goose had flushed the Great Mighty Poo. And he wasn’t impressed.

“Hey, I was going to do that!” whinged Conker. “And I had such a cool line to go along with it. Let’s see, what was it…?”

“You cursed goose, look at what you’ve done!” screeched the Great Mighty Poo, his disgusting body spinning and spinning. “I’m flushing , I’m flushing! Noooooooo!”

“And that’s what I call a bowel movement!” beamed Conker, finally remembering.

But he was too late. Over a minute and passed since the poo monster had been flushed. And the goose was nowhere in sight.

“Ah shit,” sighed Conker to the empty shit-filled room.

*

_Don’t you just hate it when other people get involved in your shit? Well, it may not be your shit per se, but a huge pile of shit that you found? Finders keepers and all that? Yeah, well this goose is really starting to rub me the wrong way. He’s already proved that he’s a stingy bastard, since he won’t buy me that beer. And he’s earning a lot of cash too… that could be my money! Anyway, I think I need some time alone. I think I’m going to check out that graveyard area. I’m sure it’ll be dead quiet there. See you in chapter 4!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Fuck this shit… fuck the goose. I’m tired. In fact, you could say I’m dead tired. Haha, that’d be really funny if you knew what happened to me next!_

*

Conker had had enough. His shitty day had gotten even shittier, which hadn’t seemed possible, considering he’d just had a face-off with a giant shit monster. In search of peace and quiet, he’d returned to the barn, but when he realised that the paintbrush and bucket were just going to shout expletives at him, he stole their moonshine and headed to the graveyard. By the time he’d reached the iron graveyard gates, he was struggling to stand.

“I can’t believe you’re going in there!” exclaimed an indignant voice. It was Greg the Grim Reaper. “I suppose you’re after your rich ancestor’s money. Bloody undead, they’re worse than cats!”

“No, I think I’ll just have a little lie-down,” mumbled Conker, still struggling with the gates. He stopped abruptly when he realised what Greg had said. “Wait. Did you say money? Rich ancestor?”

“Of course he only hears the parts he wants to hear,” grumbled Greg to himself, before addressing Conker. “Yeah, that’s right, he’s got money. Thing is, you can’t kill the undead unless you shoot them in the head. Here, take this shotgun.”

But Greg the Grim Reaper needn’t have bothered. As soon as Conker heard the word “money” his eyes glazed over and became dollar signs. He absentmindedly took the shotgun.

“Right, so shoot the guy in the head and get the inheritance,” hiccupped Conker, accidentally setting off the shotgun. The bullet narrowly missed Greg’s head.

“I don’t care, shoot yourself if you’d like!” Not that it’d make any difference, with all the lives squirrels get…”

But Conker was no longer within earshot. Somehow he’d managed to push open the gate and stumble into the eerie fog-covered graveyard. Completely oblivious to just how uncanny the place was, Conker lay down on the ground, resting his head on a toppled-over gravestone.

“Right, this looks like a great place to take a nap,” announced Conker, his eyes drooping. Had he managed to stay awake just a few minutes later, he would have noticed the hands rising from the earth around him.

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhh!”

“No, not now Berri, I’m trying to sleep…”

“UUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHH!”

Conker rolled over, trying to ignore the strange sound. However, he couldn’t ignore the sensation of a stone-cold hand grasping his arm. He rubbed his eyes and almost jumped out of his skin.

“Holy shit, it’s a zombie!” he yelled. “Who’d thought that? I can’t believe Greg didn’t think of warning me… Oh shit!”

Conker tried to shoot one of the zombies with his shotgun, but his drunken aim was completely off. He began firing around the graveyard wildly, not hitting a single zombie. But just when he thought hope was lost…

_Honk_.

Conker watched in awe as the goose appeared from nowhere and snapped a leg off the zombie closest to him with its sharp beak. But it didn’t stop there: the goose continued snapping off zombie limbs until the zombies were nothing but heads and torsos, their limbs twitching in a huge pile. With shaking hands, Conker aimed the shotgun at the relatively still zombie targets and blasted their brains out.

“Wow, you really saved my squirrel bacon there, goosey,” began Conker. But he realised that he was addressing an empty graveyard.

*

_Wonder where the goose went…? Well, that was absolutely bonkers. Batshit, in fact. But it’s not as batshit as what is going to happen next. Until chapter 5!_


End file.
